


Afterimage

by Stegaysaurus



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 02:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16652683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stegaysaurus/pseuds/Stegaysaurus
Summary: Blue, swirling blue, blindingly bright. Newton wasn’t sure where his body ended and the light began, couldn’t focus on it even if he wanted to. Voices, animalistic and foreign, invaded his mind. He couldn’t understand the language, never had, but he conveyed meaning from it in a fundamental way that made his skin prickle and crawl. His head pounded, like a bass beat in his very brain, and he was all at once aware of a wet heat on his upper lip. He tried to reach up, to touch it, but he couldn’t even twitch his fingers. The whispers were incomprehensible, tripping over themselves and drowning out his own thoughts. The warm dripped from his top lip, from the tip of his nose, and copper filled his mouth. He tried to squeeze his eyes shut, and couldn’t even make his eyelids droop. The blue got brighter, the whispers growing to a dull roar, and he felt like he was going mad, helpless, never going to escape, can’t move, can’t breathe.





	Afterimage

**Author's Note:**

> hey! i finished this about ten minutes ago! vaguely inspired by Bae-Science's [The Lab](https://bae-science.tumblr.com/post/180049073069/anon-requested-would-you-be-willing-to-do-a) and [You Don't Know](https://bae-science.tumblr.com/post/175961885104/newts-recovery-is-a-big-thing-for-me-a-lot-of)! I've listened to them like a hundred times and needed some newmann sue me,,

Blue, swirling blue, blindingly bright. Newton wasn’t sure where his body ended and the light began, couldn’t focus on it even if he wanted to. Voices, animalistic and foreign, invaded his mind. He couldn’t understand the language, never had, but he conveyed meaning from it in a fundamental way that made his skin prickle and crawl. His head pounded, like a bass beat in his very brain, and he was all at once aware of a wet heat on his upper lip. He tried to reach up, to touch it, but he couldn’t even twitch his fingers. The whispers were incomprehensible, tripping over themselves and drowning out his own thoughts. The warm dripped from his top lip, from the tip of his nose, and copper filled his mouth. He tried to squeeze his eyes shut, and couldn’t even make his eyelids droop. The blue got brighter, the whispers growing to a dull roar, and he felt like he was going mad, helpless, never going to escape, can’t move, can’t breathe. Copper started to fill his mouth, and he didn’t even know what position his body was in. He choked, panic rising in his chest like claws, wrapping around his lungs and heart and squeezing until he felt like he was going to die, could feel the life being siphoned out out him, and he couldn’t even  _ fight it-- _

 

Newton jerked up in bed, skin hot and cold and sticky. His throat was sore, jaw aching, and he realized a second later that it was because he was screaming, grinding his teeth. He reached up to touch his nose, gasping in huge, desperate breaths, gripped the thin fabric of his shirt, dug his nails into his flesh just to feel it. The room was too dark to see, and he was thankful for it. A sob fell from his lips, and something brushed his elbow tentatively.

 

He screamed, jerking away and toppling right off the bed in a tangle of sweaty blankets. He shook off the daze from the impact with the ground, launching himself up and pressing against the wall desperately. The bedside lamp clicked on, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden yellow glow.

 

“ _ Newton _ ,” a familiar voice whispered, trembling faintly, a voice Newton couldn’t forget even if he wanted to. He never wanted to.

 

He opened his eyes slowly, hating that nothing was blurry, that he couldn’t wear his glasses anymore because of the  _ fucking-- _

 

“Newton, please,” Hermann’s voice came again, and Newton’s eyes flicked down to the man’s outstretched hand.

 

He stumbled forward, legs still tangled in the duvet that he’d taken over the edge with him, and landed on the mattress with a creak of springs. He collapsed forward against Hermann’s chest, releasing heaving sobs he didn’t know he was holding back. A soft hand stroked up and down his back, slowly dispelling the dark wisps of primal panic that still lingered. He curled his fingers in Hermann’s stupid old man pajamas, cried into his chest until no more tears came.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice thick and trembling, “I’m sorry, Hermann, god, I’m so  _ so sorry _ .”

 

Hermann shushed him softly, and Newton felt his press his lips to the wild mess of his hair. He fell into another round of sobs, though no tears accompanied this. Newton could hardly suck in a breath before it was forced out of him again, and he was hardly aware of Hermann’s gentle rocking.

 

“Am I crazy?” he sobbed brokenly into soft cotton. “Hermann, I’m so-orry.”

 

“Newton,” Hermann said, quiet and firm, and Newton pulled back ever so slightly to look up at him. “Newton, you’ve nothing to apologize for, darling, now, breathe, okay? Look at me, yes, there you go, now breathe.”

 

Newton did as he was told, whole body trembling like a leaf in a storm as he forced himself to breath along with Hermann. He didn’t dare look away from those soft brown eyes, couldn’t uncurl his fingers from Hermann’s shirt, as though if he didn’t focus completely on Hermann he’d fade away like a fever dream. Hermann touched his neck, his face, stroked the pads of his thumbs over tear tracks marring his cheeks and held Newton’s gaze with an equal intensity until the trembling subsided and his breathing evened. Newton felt sticky, gross, and he his mouth felt like sandpaper. He wasn’t tired, couldn’t have gone back to sleep even if he was, and the mere thought of closing his eyes was enough to incite another little stab of panic.

 

“I-I wanna shower,” Newton stated, slowly releasing Hermann’s shirt and bringing up his cramped fingers to rest gently against the warm skin of Hermann’s exposed wrists.

 

He was infinitely thankful that Hermann seemed to hear the unspoken,  _ but I don’t want to leave you _ at the end. They both got up on shaky legs, Hermann groping for his cane on the floor where it had been tipped over at some point and wrapping his arm around Newton’s waist. Neither was sure who was supporting the other, but it took a phenomenal amount of stumbling and quiet, amused huffs in the dim lamp light until they made it into the bathroom. There was a long silence while they both stripped down, usually filled with Newton’s cheeky comments about Hermann’s body and Hermann’s mildly exasperated replies. The water was a cold shock to Newton’s system, followed by a rush of warmth. He was still unsteady, but the hot water felt like it was washing away the traces of his nightmare. The blue still burned in his head, bright and blazing, and he clung to Hermann in an attempt to clear it from his head.

 

The steam felt thick around him, and Hermann took his hand several times to keep him from scratching at his tattoos until he broke skin. He felt clumsy, fine motor skills not quite what they used to be. He felt like  _ he _ was the intruder, using a body that wasn’t his, not used to 20/20 vision, the lack of weight he’d had before. He gripped Hermann’s hands tight every time his nails were tugged away from his skin, having to steady his breathing for a moment. His head swam a little, and he felt guilty for making Hermann stand in here for so long while he washed himself.

 

God, he was so  _ stupid _ , this was so  _ stupid _ , he just wanted it to stop, to be okay, for the therapy, and the meds, and the nightmares, and the panic attacks to just  _ stop _ .

 

“Newton,” Hermann breathed, barely audible over the sound of the water.

 

Newton looked up, and felt his face crumple. Hermann was so patient, so tender, he didn’t deserve it after what he’d done to him.  _ God, _ he loved him, though. He wouldn’t be here without him, would probably still be trapped in his own head, hopelessly fading away in the corner that the Precursors had had him locked in for so long.

 

“I love you,” Newton blurted, louder than he intended. “I,  _ god _ , Herms, I love you so much, I’m sorry, you deserve better, I--”

 

“Newton,” Hermann said again, sharp and stern. “I am here, with you, right now, and I am the  _ happiest _ man alive, don’t you  _ dare _ apologize for what has happened to you. There’s nothing in the world that could take me away from you now, not even yourself.”

 

Newton stared, stunned, at Hermann’s face, his furrowed brow, the bright passion in his eyes, and felt like he couldn’t breathe again. Hermann reached behind Newton to turn off the water, pushing open the curtain with the hand not clinging, white knuckled, to the metal bar mounted on the wall and reaching for a towel. Newton moved to grab it for him, pressing it into his palm and grabbing the other one to dry himself off. Hermann slid back into his pajamas, and Newton wrapped his towel around his waist until he could fish a fresh pair of boxers out of the dresser. 

 

Changing the sheets was an ordeal, but it let Newton loosen up. The corners popped off several times, and once Hermann rested a gentle hand on his shoulder and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. By the time they crawled into bed, Newton’s anxiety had receded enough for his lack of sleep to creep back up on him. He pressed himself against Hermann’s side in the dark, careful not to jar the man’s leg too much.

 

“I’m scared, Hermann,” Newton whispered, trying to fight off the exhaustion tugging at his eyelids.

 

“I’m here, it will be okay, Newton,” Hermann whispered back, carding his fingers through Newton’s still damp hair.

 

Newton let out a long breath, nuzzling his face into the crook of Hermann’s neck and letting sleep overtake him again.

 

“Happy birthday, Newton,” Hermann sighed, pulling the other man closer as the beginnings of the morning light crept between the curtains..

 

But Newton was already asleep again.


End file.
